


A Winding Road Leads Home

by Ywain Penbrydd (penbrydd)



Series: A Comedy of Assholes (Rhapsody, etc.) [10]
Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/M, Kalli is not impressed, Meet the Family, Theron takes getting decked so well
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-17 09:49:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,248
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5864569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/penbrydd/pseuds/Ywain%20Penbrydd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Theron Mahariel left his clan, a few summers ago, on a quest for the shemlen of his dreams, who'd gone off in the night, with the rest of that family. Instead, he found a beautiful flat-eared girl, who made a name for herself slaughtering fuckboys in the streets of Denerim. So, he's done what any sane man would do, and brought the Bane of Denerim home to meet his clan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For the Secret Companion, who requested Theron bringing Kalli home to meet the family.

The forest was just as he remembered it. A bright glow filtered through the leaves, and all around them was gold and green. As they'd come through the wood, he'd started hunting more meat than they would eat, and he carried three brace of pheasants over one shoulder. He bent down to pick a leaf of elfroot and offer it to his companion, as he spotted the first sentry in the corner of his vision. Good. They'd be home, soon. Well, he'd be home. His companion had never seen the place, before.

"Hold!" the sentry cried, arrow already aimed at the chest of one of the hooded strangers. "Come no closer!"

"Don't I know you?" an amused voice asked, before one pair of hands came up and pushed back a heavy hood. "Ghilan'asha? Is that you?" The man ran a hand through his rumpled brown hair and laughed. "Picked Andruil, just like I did, didn't you. I should've known you would."

The sentry stared a long while, arrow unfaltering, before she spoke. " _Mahariel?_ "

"None other! I have returned to my people, as you always knew I would!" Theron laughed and pulled the figure beside him closer, only to get elbowed sharply. "Ow! Say hello to the nice girl who's not going to kill us because we're elves!"

"I'm going to die of your elfiness at this rate, Theron. Who in the seven dragons of Tevinter taught you how to cook?" a feminine voice griped from under the other hood. "I hope the rest of the Dalish have taken less blows to the head."

"She means hello," Theron filled in. "Really, she does. It's just how people talk in the city."

"Oh, Creators, Mahariel, you didn't bring back another one of your little shem pets, did you? They're still telling stories about the last one!" Ghillan'asha groaned, finally lowering her bow.

"Shem!?" the hooded woman exclaimed. " _Shem?_ "

Theron's hands locked in front of her, preventing her from rushing the sentry in a rage. "By which she means she's the Bane of Denerim, and slaughtered more than a dozen shem with nothing but a kitchen knife. Trust me, she's good people. She's just a little... you know how the flat-ears are. One night with a hot meal and no shemlen in sight, and you'll see how she is." He still hadn't given his companion's name. "Come on, what happened to all those pretty words I taught you?"

"Tel'abelas," the hooded woman replied, trying to pry Theron's fingers apart.

"She does mean that, although it's not what I was aiming for." Theron laughed. "How's Tamlen been, all these years without me?"

"Brothers in soul and stupidity, the two of you. At least he didn't run off after some shemlen tail, like some people I could mention," Ghilan'asha teased.

"And all the better for him, I'm sure. I do bring back tales of the city, though, and tales of our people that the shemlen tell. We'll see if that sets him wandering, now that I'm home again." Theron grinned and pulled the hooded woman closer to him. "May we join the camp? I'm sure a cup of tea and the warmth of the fire will help our disposition."

"You know how much the Keeper dislikes surprises," Ghilan'asha said, shaking her head.

"Ah! But, I come bearing gifts!" Theron grinned. "A beautiful woman--" He choked on the last word as the hooded woman's fist slammed up into his nose.

"I am not a gift! I'm not just some _thing_ to be taken and used!" she roared, a dagger leaping to her hand as she slammed the other elbow into Theron's chest again.

"And three brace of pheasants," Theron finished, a bit more nasally, as blood trickled down his chin. "I said you'd like her."

Ghilan'asha held out her hand, an exasperated smile on her face, as she remembered what trouble Theron had always been. "He means it is a gift that you have returned to us. Every elf is a gift to the Dalish. Come, let us wash the city off you and show you freedom."

Theron finally let go as the hooded woman stepped forward to take the hand she was offered, dagger disappearing back under her cloak. "Gilla-naja, right?"

Behind her, Theron grimaced and shrugged awkwardly. He'd tried to teach a few words, not just to her but to anyone in Denerim's alienage who would listen, but the accent of the city made a mincemeat of the old words and the names that went with them.

"Softer," Ghilan'asha replied, before sounding it out with the other woman a few times. "And what is your name, woman from the city? Or shall I call you 'Asha Belarl'an', just as you are?"

"Kalli," the hooded woman finally replied. "You can call me Kalli."

"Andaran atish'an, Kalli," Ghilan'asha said, leading Kalli deeper into the wood and trusting Theron to follow. "Welcome to my home. May you come to know peace in it."


	2. Chapter 2

"Keeper, you'll never believe what I found in the woods!" Ghilan'asha called out, as they came up on the camp. "This old point-eared menace and his flat-eared friend!"

"I am not a menace!" Theron protested, holding up his hands. "I just get a little excited, sometimes!"

"Excited, huh? That's how you collapsed that aravel, isn't it?" Ghilan'asha teased, leading him and Kalli to the fire.

A scout staggered out of an aravel, squinting. "I know that voice... Why, you bastard wolfson, there you are! It's been years! We all thought the Dread Wolf got you, running off alone, like you did!"

" _Tamlen_?" Theron whipped around, handing the roped pheasants off to Ghilan'asha, before he bounded across the camp, arms wide. "Mythal's breath, how are you?"

Tamlen waited until the last second to stick his arm out and step forward, cracking Theron across the neck and dragging him to the ground for a few quick punches. "You ran out on me you turd! You flaming pile of halla dung, how could you do that? You didn't even take me with you!"

Theron laughed and twisted under the assault until he could jam a foot in Tamlen's face. "I was going to run off to the city and fuck shem. You don't even like the look of them! They're too hairy, you said. They've got stupid round ears, you said."

"That's not the point," Tamlen grumbled, getting in a few more hits.

"What about, if both of us left, the whole clan would've caved in on itself?" Theron asked, catching Tamlen's neck in the curve of his knee and sitting up. "You said it yourself! And I agreed with you. One of us, but not both of us. There's always got to be at least one of us."

"Who do you think's going to win?" Kalli asked Ghilan'asha. "I mean, that's a pretty good show, but my bet's still on the other guy."

Ghilan'asha grinned slyly. "You never could tell, with the two of them. They were always like this. It's why they were both set out to be hunters, first. But, Mahariel's too easily bored and Tamlen can't sit still. Tamlen's a scout now, but... Master Ilen's been trying to pull him into crafting and Hahren Paivel's been looking for a new apprentice."

"What... _did_ Theron used to do?" Kalli asked, still watching the two men roll around on the ground, punching, growling, and laughing.

"He looks like such an idiot, doesn't he?" Ghilan'asha laughed. "But, don't let him fool you. If he had magic, he'd be our Keeper's First. He was Hahren Paivel's apprentice. He tells the old stories and sings the old songs. One day, he'll teach the children the old ways."

"So, he's... what, like a performer of some kind?" Kalli dug some dried fruit out of her bag and offered a piece to Ghilan'asha, as the fight continued.

"More like a teacher and a scholar, I think. Those are the words for people who show the old ways to the young, in the cities, right?" Ghilan'asha accepted a piece of fruit and tore at the leathery sweet with her teeth.

" _He's_ a teacher?" Kalli looked horrified.

"The children love him. And he does voices, when he tells the stories. It's very exciting." Ghilan'asha chuckled. "He used to tell the stories to us, at night, when he was first learning them. He's only a little older than me. Tamlen and I would come back from scouting, and Mahariel would be by the fire, practising his recitations. He'd go all night, if someone didn't make him go to sleep."

"That last part I'd believe," Kalli drawled, picking fruit out of her teeth.

"What is the meaning of this?" A woman's voice echoed off the trees, and Theron and Tamlen scrambled apart, wiping at the blood on their faces, as they stood and looked anywhere but at the Keeper.

"We were just saying hello," Tamlen muttered.

"Enthusiastically," Theron agreed. "Hello, Keeper. I'm home!"

"Are you certain of that?" Marethari asked. "Did you not abandon us, to seek your own path?"

"Abandon? Never!" Theron clapped a hand to his chest. "I went out to see the world with Dalish eyes! To bring back the joys of the city and stories of its horrors! I know the old stories, the stories of the Dales, but what of the new stories? Do not all our people deserve to be represented?"

"You ran off for flat-ear stories?" Marethari scoffed, eyes hard as she studied Theron. "No, you were just repeating your father's mistakes. Rushing foolishly into danger. Abandoning your duties to chase after something you think is love."

"Didn't say it was love. It was definitely worth chasing, though."

"Where is he, then, hm? Where is that shem you forsook us all for?" Marethari demanded, lifting her chin. "Are you too frightened to bring him back into the camp, after the destruction the two of you brought down?"

"Didn't say I'd found him, either, but I have no regrets about the hunt. See what I did bring you!" Theron swept an arm toward where Ghilan'asha stood with Kalli. "Six pheasants and the finest warrior in all of Denerim. The Bane of Denerim, so called, for she is merciless and swift, in her white gown with tiny knives, carving through the shemlen horde, until none stood to face her!"

"Theron, no," Kalli groaned.

Marethari held up a hand to Theron, and he stopped reciting. "Is it true?" she asked Kalli. "Come here, so I can see you."

"It's all right," Ghilan'asha assured Kalli, quietly.

Kalli pushed back her hood and stepped further into the light of the fire. "They killed my husband in the middle of my wedding. I butchered them like sheep, and left them to feed the rats."

And that was something Marethari could understand, having dragged her Keeper from the battle in which her own husband was slain. "And what is the difference between those humans and these elves?"

"These elves didn't kill my husband," Kalli replied with a quirk of her lips.

"And is that enough?" Marethari asked, studying Kalli's face. "Will that be enough?"

"I will suffer no assault on myself, my husband should I choose another, my children should they come to be, or my home. That is enough. Can these elves promise me that?" Kalli replied, her gaze just as steady as the Keeper's.

"Regard us with that same mind, and we will have no trouble with you." Marethari nodded. "Welcome. Warm yourself. We will find a place for you."

"See that?" Tamlen said, grinding his knuckles on the top of Theron's head. "She's welcome here, because she's not out there chasing shem tail, like _some_ people I could name."

"I'll tell you, lethallin, there's nothing like roundears with nice, round bottoms." Theron grinned totally unapologetically.

"And thank the creators for that." Tamlen crinkled his nose and stuck out his tongue, shaking his head at Ghilan'asha, who raised a hand to cover her smile.

"What makes you think you're still welcome here, da'len?" Marethari asked, her voice crisp and clear. "You left us when we needed you once, already."

"No, I didn't." Theron was perfectly still, his voice low and calm. "You didn't need what left here. You can use me, now."

"And what if your shemlen comes back? Will you leave with him, then?" Marethari didn't waver in the least.

"Only if you make me." Theron's already slim lips thinned, nearly vanishing. "And why would he come back now?"

"Didn't you?"

"Ah, but I knew where you would be. I never told him how to find us, when we left, and he never told me how to find him, before he disappeared." Theron shrugged, blinking a couple times as he looked away from Marethari's face. "We were kids. We were just kids. But, I return with food and a fine warrior and stories of other elves -- stories we didn't have, because they came from the cities."

Marethari eyed him sternly. "You will speak with Paivel, in the morning. If he will have you back -- _if_ \-- you may return to us. Otherwise you have made your decision, and it was not to stay with us."

"He hates me," Tamlen whispered. "You'll be fine."

" _You?_ " Theron's eyes darted to the side, and Tamlen shrugged innocently. "Yes, Keeper. I will speak with Hahren Paivel in the morning, and see if he still has a place for me."

"Tomorrow, da'len." Marethari turned away, making her way back to the depths of the camp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This may or may not actually be finished, but I'm going to assume it is.


End file.
